


Special

by wingsofbadass



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sexual Content, alcohol mention, the morning after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:36:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5764963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofbadass/pseuds/wingsofbadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After unexpectedly spending the night with his best friend, Jean finds himself asking something he never dared before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special

**Author's Note:**

> Jean is such a dork.
> 
> (Please excuse any formatting weirdness, I had to post this from my phone because I'm without wifi.)

Waking up to the sight of Marco's face was at once the most familiar and the most peculiar thing in the world.

For a moment, Jean was frozen from head to toe, only his heart thrashing wildly against his sternum as he stared at his best friend. Marco was still asleep. The right side of his face was pressed into the pillow he was hugging as he slept on his stomach, the way he always had since their childhood. Jean could hear the soft puffs of air escaping this parted lips in a slow, regular rhythm that made his bare shoulders rise and fall.

Jean breathed in deeply in an attempt to calm the panicked thrill buzzing through his veins.

He had woken up next to Marco countless times; there really was no need to freak out. It hadn't even been the first time they'd seen each other naked, either. Never like this, though. With his face burning, Jean pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the pathetic sound he could feel wiggling up his throat. He'd certainly never seen Marco's lips fall open around deep, velvety moans or felt Marco's body quake violently as he came all over his stomach.

Until last night.

Jean felt like the blood was boiling in his veins. With a low breath of “fuck”, he turned over to look for his phone on the nightstand, but it wasn't there. After several moments of confused looking around, he spotted its corner peeking out of the jeans he'd worn the night before. Carefully, he shifted to lean over the edge of the mattress and, balancing on one arm, stretched until he could reel in his phone and settle back against his pillow.

Most of the messages he'd missed were in their group chat, probably everyone discussing how hungover they were and exchanging embarrassing pictures from their night at Connie's. He ignored it for now, instead opening his conversation with Mikasa. She'd sent him a picture in the very early hours of the morning, most likely when she'd gone to bed and scrolled through the photos she'd taken.

The picture showed him and Marco sitting on the couch, deep in conversation. Their heads were close, tilted together in unmistakable intimacy that went beyond having to carry a conversation over the loud music of a party. Jean's pale skin was flushed. He remembered feeling hot, but he could no longer tell whether it had been the alcohol or Marco's proximity that had driven the heat into his cheeks. Marco's bronzed skin protected him from such embarrassment, but the affection he wore on his lips in an easy smile was spilling out from his eyes as he looked at Jean, so obvious that it made Jean's heart stutter in his chest once more. Jean only noticed the hand he'd placed on Marco's thigh as he was about to close the picture.

 _Didn't seem right to share this one in the group ;)_ , Mikasa had written.

Jean let his phone drop onto the mattress and groaned his mortification into his hands. Before his thoughts could spiral into panic, however, he heard Marco give a tell-tale grumble next to him. Swallowing around his dry throat, Jean lowered his hands to glance at Marco who was slowly shifting beneath the sheets, his eyebrows crunching together in distaste.

He reached out blindly, the hand patting around the mattress almost grazing Jean's shoulder, probably in search of his phone. When he found nothing, Marco opened his eyes with another grumble as he spotted Jean. 

“Oh,” he breathed.

Jean cleared his throat. “Uh, hi.”

Blearily, Marco blinked at him for a couple of seconds, only slowly taking in what kind of situation they were in. Jean could practically see it hit him, as his brown eyes widened and he seemed to stop breathing.

“ _Oh_.”

Again fighting the heat rising to his cheeks, Jean turned onto his side to face Marco, holding his comforter to his chest like he still had anything left to hide. But he couldn't quite help it. He felt doubly exposed, doubly vulnerable in a way he'd never had before with Marco.

“Yeah, so... that happened,” he said lamely.

Marco pressed his face back into the pillow with a bashful chuckle, easing the tension in Jean.

“That was kinda sudden,” Marco said, voice gruff from alcohol and singing along to songs all night, as he emerged from his embarrassment and mirrored Jean, turning onto his side and propping his head up on his hand.

Jean shrugged with one shoulder, letting his gaze drift away from Marco and get lost in the sheets between them.  
“But … good, r-right?”

“Yeah,” he said softly and when Jean looked up again, Marco was biting his lower lip around a smile. It was fucking adorable. “Really good.”

A sudden thought made Jean's jaw drop. He gasped, probably a little too dramatically, and sat up, crossing his legs beneath him.

“Marco! Do you know what this means?”  
Marco looked startled, almost worried, as he stared up at Jean with wide eyes.

“W-what?”

“You're my best friend!” Jean exclaimed, pointing at Marco. “This is a special case! I can just ask you!”

Shaking his head in confusion, Marco said, “Ask me what?”

“Was I _good_?”

For a moment, Marco just stared at him. Then he burst into snorting laughter.  
Feeling his ego bruising, Jean faltered a little. “I'm serious...”

Marco slapped a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter, eyes huge as he tried to calm down.

“I'm sorry,” he wheezed, looking genuinely apologetic at least. “You just caught me off guard.”

“Well, who else can I ask?” Jean grumped, fiddling with the edge of his comforter. He felt silly, being upset by this, but he had always been honest with Marco, had always been able to voice his thoughts around him. He hadn't expected this.

“Jean, I'm really sorry,” Marco soothed, taking Jean's hand and squeezing gently. “That was just, I don't know, nervous laughter, I promise. I wasn't laughing at you. You know you can ask me anything.”

Slightly mollified, Jean dared a quick glance up at Marco's earnest face, before dropping it once more. He squeezed Marco's hand back, though.

“So. Did you like it?” He couldn't bring himself to ask “How was I?” Not again.

Marco gave a thoughtful hum and started playing with Jean's fingers. Had it been anyone else, Jean might've worried that Marco had trouble coming up with positive things to say. But he knew Marco was being considerate, giving his answer enough thought instead of blurting it out the way Jean would've.

“I really liked what you did with your hands,” Marco began, fingers still dancing around Jean's. He could hear the nervousness in Marco's tone, that slight shake in his voice that told Jean he really was being sincere. “I've always really liked your hands, to be honest. They're so –”

Flicking his eyes up to Marco's face when he cut himself off, he saw that Marco was blushing lightly after all, his eyes focused on their intertwined fingers.

“Graceful,” Marco finished after short hesitation. “And somehow you knew just where and how to touch me.”

“Well,” Jean croaked, his heart beating in his throat. “you made it really, uhm, clear when you liked something. You made such nice noises and I just – just wanted to hear more of them.”

Marco laughed lightly and Jean looked up to catch his gaze, breathing out a short laugh of his own.

“Well, you certainly succeeded in hearing more,” Marco said and Jean felt heat shoot through his blood as he remembered the way Marco had moaned for him, completely uninhibited, while Jean had curled his fingers deep inside that tight heat. “That was amazing.”

Jean's face was no longer the only thing burning now. He felt hot all over, even though he was basically naked, but he couldn't look away from the intensity in Marco's eyes. It was the same look he'd seen the night before when Marco had looked up at him from where he had his lips wrapped around Jean's cock.

“Your mouth,” Jean blurted and his gaze flickered down to Marco's lips, “is amazing. That was the best – I mean, fuck. I can't believe you took the whole –”

Oh, God, Jean was getting hard just thinking about it. Unable to take the way his body was reacting to the conversation, with hot need coursing through his gut and making his skin tingle, Jean let himself crash back into his pillow face-first with a low whine. “I can't do this.”

He felt Marco shift closer across the bed, damn him, hovering close enough that Jean could sense his proximity, but still keeping a breath of space between them.

“I loved doing that to you,” Marco rasped, breathing fanning out hotly against Jean's neck and making him shiver. “Your face is so sexy when you come.”

Jean's dick twitched at the compliment and he struggled with the desire to fucking rub himself against the sheets. He'd asked for this himself, but he still found himself cursing Marco and his unexpectedly shameless words.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Marco asked after Jean had remained silent for several heartbeats.

With a sigh, Jean turned his face towards Marco. They were so close. “I don't know.”

“I loved everything about last night,” Marco murmured, releasing Jean's fingers and letting his hand slide to Jean's bare waist instead. “I loved your hands and your face and how sensitive you are here.” He brushed his knuckles down Jean's stomach, along his happy trail, making the muscles twitch and Jean gasp.

Marco's voice was so low now, his eyes so dark with want that it made Jean's head spin.

“And I loved the way you kissed me,” Marco continued, his lips almost brushing Jean's, tortuously close.

“How did I kiss you?” Jean asked, voice barely more than a whisper. His hand found Marco's hip, where he let his thumb stroke lightly over the protruding bone.

“Like you meant it.”

Jean closed the tiny distance between their mouths with a hungry sound breaking free of his throat and Marco sighed as though he'd waited ages for their lips to connect once more. The kiss grew deep almost immediately, their tongues moving together easily as Jean rolled on top of Marco in search of closeness.

Feeling Marco's soft skin against his own now, with his head clear, felt even more intense than he could remember. Where their touches had been frantic, desperate the night before, they were unhurried now, almost more an expression of care than of need. Marco's hands were cradling his jaw, gently, but the touch was still a claim that made Jean melt into it without hesitation.

“I did mean it,” Jean panted into Marco's mouth and pressed himself even closer, as close as he could without letting his whole weight fall onto Marco. “I've wanted to do that for a while.”

“Why didn't you?”

Breaking away from Marco's soft lips with some regret, Jean looked down at him.

“Because you're my best friend.” Marco blinked up at Jean, apparently not sure what he was trying to tell him. Jean dragged shaky fingertips along Marco's cheek, hoping the touch might say what his words couldn't. “You're special.”

Marco pulled him back down for a kiss, the press of his lips so gentle it made Jean's heart stumble in his chest.

“Show me,” Marco breathed.

And although they were plunging into something new, something unknown, nothing had ever felt more right than doing so with Marco. And Jean showed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Feedback in any form would be perfection (like gum) and very much appreciated.
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr or Twitter, where I'm also wingsofbadass.


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